


dedicating myself to you, wholly

by aeoniancypress



Series: oneshots for the royal au [3]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Developing Relationship, Friendship, King!George, Knighthood, M/M, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Relationships, Rated teen for swearing, Real names used, becoming a knight, can be read as platonic, dream is emotional, dreamnotfound, george has heterochromia, george is colour blind, if you're blind, knight!dream, no beta we die like george in manhunt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:08:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28276620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeoniancypress/pseuds/aeoniancypress
Summary: The need to hold him to ensure he didn't fall- even though the prince's balance was unlike anything Clay had ever seen, especially on his horse- was so large that Clay had to forcibly shove down the itching feeling that made him want to move. He was sure that he'd soon do this effortlessly as a Royal Knight, however he still had to think about this. After being top of the class in training, he was being used as a model student, and there were plenty of eyes on him now, curious to see if he would live up to the example the older knights wanted him to be, though still wondering if the prince could make him crack.He refused to crack.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: oneshots for the royal au [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2038414
Comments: 12
Kudos: 70





	dedicating myself to you, wholly

**Author's Note:**

> hullo hullo! this is not canon because of the timing... ugh, timelines amirite? but this is a oneshot of when clay passes his final test to be knighted! and im so mad it's not even valid in the actual story because someone is supposed to be dead at this point but oh well he's not,,,,,
> 
> uh,,,, enjoy?

He was stood perfectly still, relieved that it was seemingly over after having to endure the prince's surprising flexibility as he essentially used him as a climbing frame; hooking his legs around Clay's neck and easily swinging down, sitting with his legs around Clay's hips or even on his shoulders as he stood upright on them, forced not to become distracted or faced with the failure of his final exam.

The need to hold him to ensure he didn't fall- even though the prince's balance was unlike anything Clay had ever seen, especially on his horse- was so large that Clay had to forcibly shove down the itching feeling that made him want to move. He was sure that he'd soon do this effortlessly as a Royal Knight, however he still had to think about this. After being top of the class in training, he was being used as a model student, and there were plenty of eyes on him now, curious to see if he would live up to the example the older knights wanted him to be, though still wondering if the prince could make him crack.

He refused to crack.

Now he was off of him, standing in front of Clay with a careful gaze as his eyes trailed over each feature of Clay's exposed face. He felt raw in front of George now, with so much expectation but that odd tingling feeling that stayed under his fingers and in his cheeks, looking ahead and fixing his own gaze on a pillar on the other side of the hall. He avoided each scrutinizing look of those who were already knights and avoided those of his fellow recruits. Clay couldn't imagine Nick's face right now. His was unmoving.

Prince George lifted a hand, placing it over his right cheek. After he got no reaction, he continued to smooth over the soft tan skin littered in freckles, then shifted his focus to Clay's lips. In any other circumstance, Clay would have flushed bright red and felt embarrassment deep in his bones, but he instead forced his mind out of the situation and tried not to realise what was happening.

After a further lack of reaction, the brunet's thumb moved to the corner of Clay's mouth, and with a soft press, he forced Clay's lips to part and his jaw to drop.

Clay desperately tried not to feel humiliated as Prince George's half-gloved hand pressed his mouth fully open, leaving his tongue slack and his breathing a little unsteady out of nervousness, and then he felt his thumb settle on top of his tongue. The rest of his fingers curved under his jaw and roughly turned his head to each side.

He couldn't help but focus on the taste of George's thumb, clearly having been washed after lunch, but some part of him perceived the taste as pastry, making his brain register it as so many different things. It tasted oddly sweet, and the sudden need to swallow made him realise that Prince George was waiting for this, to see what he would do. Clay decided to ignore his body's needs and focused instead on what the brunet wanted of him.

Then it hit him. Of course: the prince was being harsh on him and testing him perhaps a little more unceremoniously because of his recruitment into the Royal Guard rather than the standard knighthood division. Those his age wouldn't go straight into the Royal division, but because Clay had excelled so far and had performed at the standard of the Royal Knights, his request to immediately join his desired division had been accepted upon completion of three major tests. He'd completed and passed the first one of strength, and a week ago he'd passed his second exam of capability- which had forced him to keep going without giving up, overexerting him and making him fight and think so hard that after completing successfully, he'd passed out from the mental and physical exhaustion. This was his last exam. It was foolish of him to think it would be normal and easy.

With Prince George's thumb in his mouth, he felt it hard to swallow when his throat felt dry and the brunet pressed a little harder to see if he would move his tongue or make any kind of noise. After Clay had no response, he pulled his hand away and shut his jaw, wiping the saliva on his handkerchief.

Before he could even sigh in relief, the older boy walked around him, seemingly thinking of a final way to try to catch Clay out. George was his best friend, he understood that he was being thorough, and every King had to choose the best-fitting knights for them, but it was still disquieting.

He felt his hands being taken and ensured to relax them, allowing the prince to lift them up as far as he could without having to lean up. In some quick movement that he definitely wasn't taught in training, the brunet behind him had kicked his knees out from under him and forced him to fall, suddenly being held up only by the prince. Clay knew if he moved to hold onto him, even as a twitch of his hands, he would fail, so he stayed there.

It was physically draining, being held at such a painful angle where his legs were half-bent and strained and his wrists were definitely going to have bruises where George was holding him with one hand, another around his shoulders to aid him in being able to take the weight. Despite all of this, Clay stayed still, his gaze never wavering.

After sitting there- able to catch a glance of Nick's shocked expression at the edge of his peripheral, which almost _almost_ made him crack- for what must have been a full minute, the prince lowered him to the floor, then shoved him over.

Clay had definitely seen guards be tested by the Royals pushing them over and testing how long they'd put up with them, but actually experiencing it and seeing the ethereal boy stood above him with an inexplicable stare were two different things. He kept his focus soft, staring back at George blankly with no fight, being respectful and avoiding looking into his eyes, instead focusing on the locks of hair currently falling over them as he was looking down.

He was obediently pliant.

When Prince George looked over to another figure in the room- the king, his father, who was giving him a satisfied and proud look of approval- that Clay couldn't see, he moved his gaze to the earrings in the boy's ears. He'd just gotten through thinking about where the gold had come from when the brunet turned to him with a grin, offering his hand and helping him stand.

"You've passed. You will participate in the knighting ceremony tomorrow morning. Tomorrow your alias will be picked, and you will be knighted in the Royal Guard division. Congratulations Clay."

The hall erupted in applause, and Clay felt himself de-tense and grin, letting out a stuttered laugh as he let the words sink in. The heterochromatic boy gave him one final sweet smile, his eyes glittering with pride that Clay barely had time to catch and decipher from the excitement rushing through his own veins and fogging his mind. He gestured for Clay to return to his group, and he did, trying so hard to keep himself together and repress the urge to bounce or scream in joy.

As he passed the official knights watching for their own amusement or to support the younger recruits, they continued their applause, cheering for their soon-to-be new member and for the stunning demonstration. Many offered him handshakes or clapped him on the back and shoulders as he walked by, welcoming him with open arms and praise- more support than he'd ever felt.

Clay felt filled to the brim with emotion, wanting to cry and collapse on his knees, but he held it together and wiped away any sudden tear that came up. He'd learned a few of the Royal Knight's names- well, the nicknames that King Alfred and Prince George addressed them as- and immediately recognised Bad as the older knight wrapped his arms around him in a supportive hug, telling him he did extremely well.

Well, if that didn't make him cry.

"You did it! I knew you could- everybody welcome our youngest ever knight!" Bad exclaimed, the Royal Division throwing their hands up in celebration. Clay was thrown into a big group hug from people he didn't know but already was beginning to consider family. Approximately ten people all congratulating him at once was something he didn't think he could handle.

What was wrong with him!? He could take the Prince climbing all over him and treating him like a ragdoll, but as soon as he's given praise and so much physical touch from strangers, he falls apart?

Turning around as he sniffed and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, he caught George's eye, the smaller still stood where the recruits would walk up to him and take their place for the exam. He gave Clay a reassuring smile, looking as regal as usual in his stance, his hands at his sides patiently, allowing him his glory.

Looking to his other side, he saw Nick's beaming face of respect and assurance, making him melt even more. Clay was sure that as soon as this was over and they were sent back to their quarters, he'd be pulled into a bear hug and praised even more. He was sure he'd pass out then.

Pulling him to stand next to him, Clay felt his ego swell just a little more when Punz put an arm around him, treating him as one of the group now- which most definitely didn't have even more tears streaming down his face. He managed to compose himself while stood there, absent-mindedly wiping his eyes as his vision became blurry, then took a deep breath. He tried to avoid the king, mostly because he didn't know if he could deal with King Alfred's warm and sincere looks right now. Luckily, he got away with it and managed to calm as the next recruit came up, likely nervous after that performance of what the prince would do.

Sitting through the next several recruits (he had been in a class of thirty something) gave Clay some sense of envy over the fact that they didn't have it as bad as he did, being moved about still and George sometimes physically hitting them- of course never too hard, just little rough shoves rather than nudges or hits on the front of their armour and never making true contact- to try and draw out flinches or reactions. When someone was doing well, he'd up the ante and maybe yell at them, but that was as far as he'd take it.

Nick's turn went as smoothly as Clay told him it would. The ebony-haired boy had been filled with anxiety the moment that the exam date had been announced, really cementing the fact that they were having an exam. However, after an evening drinking something hot for once and some warm soup (courtesy of George and his generosity), he had convinced Nick that it wasn't the end of the world and he had no reason to be scared.

He followed Clay's advice, focusing on a pillar as well, and since the prince was known to be in company of Clay and Nick, he made sure to be as thorough as reasonably fair, going so far as to yank him by his hair. Unfortunately, Nick had forgotten to take off his white headband that Clay had told him to take off beforehand, but neither Prince George nor the king had reprimanded him for it yet. It had only given the brunet another approach in the exam.

George ran his fingers along the front of him, ignoring the single bead of sweat as he always gave some leeway for stage fright, then moved his hands to the back, taking a firm hold of the tie at the back of his head and yanking it back, almost too rough but making sure it didn't hurt him. He stared into the other’s eyes, waiting for the bite back, but Nick stayed passive. Finally done, the brunet let go and playfully nudged him in the shoulder and said the passing statement, letting Nick light up in exhilaration and bounce back to the group. Nick gave him a smirk as he returned, Clay able to give him a cheesy thumbs up to communicate his own pride for his friend.

Once everything was over, thirteen recruits had passed the exam and were going to be knighted at tomorrow's ceremony, including Clay and Nick. They had definitely lived up to the king and prince's expectations, and the relief of that was so ridiculously meaningful to both boys that they were definitely going to spend a night crying in happiness together.

Clay was instructed to return to his usual quarters and relax for the rest of the day, and then invited to have dinner with the Royal Guard in celebration the next day. After he'd confirmed the times, he could scoot off back to Nick. Everyone was in the process of leaving the hall, eager to either celebrate themselves or had to return to training to talk with the knights who could further help them in retaking the exam next year and becoming better, so Clay was able to grab Nick before he walked out.

The other was buzzing with joy, and when he turned to notice Clay stood in front of him, he threw his arms up and practically screamed a congrats, making Clay wheeze out and hush him, pushing him out of the room before Prince George could tell them to shut up. They walked hurriedly down the corridor, their steps rushed in their euphoria, both struggling not to talk over each other and keep their words slow with proper sentences.

"Dude! That was so- holy fuck- that was just incredible! He really wanted you to break, fucking hell, I was so sure you were going to break! George is so mean! He even- he even put his fuckin' hand in your mouth and everything! He shoved you to the floor! Man, that must have been so hard not to do anything! I would've cracked and shoved him away, and everyone was watching too with even the Royal division and the king and our classmates and-"

Clay cut him off with a sharp wheeze, the air leaving his lungs for a short moment while he struggled to breath, already having come down from the high he'd felt after passing and now having all of those emotions resurface at his friend's excitement.

"Yeah, it was scary. I can't believe I managed to stay still when he held me on the floor- y'know what I'm talking about, when I was kneeling and he was holding onto me, yeah- because my knees hurt so badly! Everything was, like, aching and I thought he was just going to break me, _fuck,_ that was so much, I'm so shocked. And they all just immediately accepted me! That was so crazy."

"To be fair, you literally are the first recruit to go straight into the Royal division, literally the youngest on the Royal Guard! You're gonna be so good, I'm sure of it." Nick assured him, cheeks hurting from smiling so wide so much. "You'll be closer to Georgie!" The nickname rolled off his tongue, knowing that the brunet wouldn't be able to say anything while he's in an entirely different area now.

Clay had thought clearly about that when he'd asked if it was possible to go straight into the Royal Guard. He wanted to begin paying his debt to the king and prince as soon as possible, having so much to thank them for that protecting them would begin to make up for. He was fully intending on being close to Prince George, silently wishing it would make the butterflies in his stomach feel less amazing and perhaps make the burning feeling he felt near George ~~last for longer~~ die out.

~~He didn't understand why he wanted that.~~

Nick continued to discuss with him meet-up times so that they could talk outside of duty where they would no longer be able to see each other all hours of the day. Clay focused on that instead of the next day, where he would be knighted by either King Alfred or Prince George, and he would be awarded the status of not just one of the _knights_ , but a _Royal_ Knight.

He didn't get to see George for the rest of the day, so when Nick had fallen asleep with his head in Clay's lap, murmurs of platonic love having left his lips, the dirty-blond had time to think about the certain heterochromatic prince in question.

At least he fell asleep to those blue and brown eyes and regal (most certainly mischievous) grin.

The next morning, he was awoken by one of the knights knocking on his door, ensuring he was awake. Clay called back that he was, and that Nick was too, and they left. He looked down at the sleeping raven, who actually wasn't awake yet, and gently shoved him. Clay's back was a little sore due to his odd sleeping position but was able to stretch it out when Nick sleepily lifted his head and sat up, yawning loudly.

He was glad they'd brought a spare set of clothes for Nick, having already decided it was going to be a sleepover. Clay was beyond excited at the idea of being able to get the full set of armour each knight wore and was so excited for his own cape to be fitted around him for the ceremony. It was early in the morning and they needed to get ready.

Nick was shoved out and forced to go to his own room after a bath was sent to Clay's room, the maid telling him he needed to bathe and get dressed in the clothes that were handed to him. They were the underlayers of his uniform, and if he said he didn't swell with pride at the sight of them, he was lying.

After bathing and dressing, he stepped out of his room to alert a maid he was done, and then headed towards the room he was told to go to the previous day. Along the way, he met a few knights on early patrol, all recognising him and waving or offering him a greeting in passing. Clay may not have known any of their faces, but he enjoyed the prospect of being able to learn soon.

The thirteen recruits who passed ate breakfast together, each discussing what division they had chosen, and then the door swung open just as Clay finished his drink. This person he did recognise. It was Punz, the one who had held him like an older brother would, and as his eyes scanned the room, he smiled upon seeing Clay.

"C'mon, we've got to get you ready for the prince." He gestured out of the door, and Clay felt his cheeks flush as the rest of the group turned to him with cheeky grins.

"The prince?" He immediately questioned, though stood. "I thought the king did the knighting?" His voice was laced with nervousness, but Punz only offered him a grin.

"King Alfred has decided that Prince George will be choosing your nickname and knighting you."

Clay definitely felt terrified then, shocked that George would go so far for him. They may be close friends, but there was always a gap between them due to George having his own responsibilities and obvious royal position. He hoped that this would fill that gap, and he would be able to be with George every step of the way and maybe return the favour of saving his life.

Stiffly walking towards the door, he tried not to let it show how embarrassed he was that the prince had specifically requested to do his part of the ceremony- especially as Prince George had never before shown such an interest in one person. As he reached the door, he was about to walk out when Punz stopped him and turned his brazen gaze to Nick.

"Oh, and Nicholas, King Alfred has decided that Prince George will be doing the same for you."

Nick practically choked on his drink, spluttering in shock as he coughed. A lot of the boys laughed, and Clay felt a little relieved that he wasn't the only one. He couldn't help but follow Punz in a similar smile, waving Nick off as he was led down the corridor.

As they walked, Punz explained the steps of the ceremony and ensured he would be prepared and knew what to do. Clay had previously thought he'd be overwhelmed but faced with the reality he felt oddly calm. It was George; everything was natural when it came to George. Each step was simple, and he didn't feel worried. He smiled and laughed at every little joke Punz made, and he felt collected around the knight.

"You'll do great. We're getting you dressed earlier because we need to make sure you'll be okay to walk down the hall in our armour, do a quick rehearsal with the cape and everything and then we'll start the ceremony." He explained, and Clay nodded, thanking him as he's pushed into a room.

Punz smiled and left, and as Clay walked into the room, he saw the tailor. He was a man of similar stature to Clay, though much older. There were various fabrics in the room, and as he spotted the freckled boy, he grinned and beckoned him over.

Clay felt nervous again as he stood still, being examined once more. The tailor finally nodded to himself and turned around, addressing him as he did. "We'll get your armour on first, then we'll see what colour you like, alright?"

The young boy had no option but to nod, and the tailor began to lift heavy pieces of armour effortlessly onto Clay. They did offput his balance a little, but it felt easy due to the lessons they'd taken in wearing armour and moving in it. Once it was all properly on, the man directed Clay towards a mirror.

He took a moment as he gasped, staring at his reflection. His hair was tousled and pushed back as usual, a little too long but that was fine. It looked golden in the lighting from the rising sun pushing through the windows. His eyes were such a bright chartreuse green, he could make out the darker and lighter flecks that George couldn't differentiate. He wished he could see him right now.

But his armour- it looked like he was born with it on. It curved so perfectly around him, fitted so well and comfortably padded in all the right places. The dazzling silver was clean and polished, with no blemishes in the metal. Clay was sure that'd change soon. He'd been given gloves to wear under the gauntlets, making it a little more comfortable to wear all day. He noticed the golden highlights in the joints, turning around to see them more clearly in his chestplate and looking at the gold near his calves.

His emotions were rising again, and the sudden dawning of a possible happy cry made him pull his gaze away from the mirror and confirm with the tailor he was ready to move on. The man gave him a knowing smile and began pulling out different capes from the clothes rack on his right. As Clay looked at them, he began to wonder why the King would allow his Royal Guards to wear different colours rather than the crimson red of the regular knights' uniform, and when the tailor observed him again, he definitely saw the question by the expression in his eyes.

"The Royal Guard are supposed to be incredibly distinguishable so that when they wear their head pieces, the King can still tell who they are. There are eleven people- soon to be twelve- on the Royal Guard, each all unique and skilled in their own right. Due to the king's need to see exactly who is who upon a distant glance, they wear their own colours. Some will wear additional items to distinguish themselves from the others. For example, on Bad's head piece, he has two sharp horns that he had specially molded into the metal. You will find your own thing." He assured Clay, who only nodded.

It made sense. Clay didn't have much time to process it before different capes were put up to him to find what length he should wear.

The tailor hummed before asking a question. "What colours do you prefer?"

Clay didn't have to think much about it. "Green is my favourite." He replied, and the tailor nodded, pulling out a cape in the colour of hunter green. It was dark, and although Clay generally found brighter greens more appealing, he immediately understood the depth of the colour.

"How's this?"

He nodded his approval, watching as the tailor began to fix it to his left shoulder after asking which his dominant hand was. Clay watched from the mirror as he ensured it was tightly attached, then made a batting motion with his hand to throw it out a little farther behind him. Gesturing for him to look in the mirror, Clay did so, hoping he wouldn't have a breakdown.

The green suited him. Clay had seen the Royal knights patrolling before, had seen their immaculate uniforms and fearsome nature, but now he was facing one in the mirror. He was truly becoming one of those prestigious knights. He decided the dedication and sleepless nights were worth it just to look at himself like this. Soon he'd be dressing like this every day without another thought.

Upon confirming it was perfect, the tailor began to teach him how to take on and off the armour, and although he made a few mistakes, he soon understood and did it easily, then was able to begin walking around. The tailor took him out of the room and walked him up and down the corridors, asking if everything was snug and well before he could send him off to his next destination so that he could assist another recruit.

Clay felt his ego grow as he walked down the halls, unable to stop his glow as he took to the armour and cape. His armour clinked a little down the halls, but that was a familiar sound as a knight, and Clay couldn't wait to hear his very own weapon moving at his side too. That would be handed to him in the ceremony, but he had had to choose it beforehand, weeks ago handing their desired designs to the blacksmith.

Finding the right room, he knocked before being allowed in. The woman on the other side of the door was dark-haired and friendly, taking him in and showing him the different kinds of straps that he wore over his armour and his weapon belt. They were fitted with loops and small satchels for various uses, and as she showed him where they went and how they went on, he understood why they were needed.

Potions were lined down his left leg in a diagonal strap, each to be filled with health. He would only wear this one when leaving the castle, and he was given a pocketknife along with a few small tools that fitted into their respective places. Clay was so focused on relearning the names and putting the straps on properly that he didn't realise they had moved on to choosing his weapon until a burly man walked in to take him to the blacksmith.

As they spoke, Clay realised that he _was_ the blacksmith, and that a blacksmith was the person, not the place. He told the young boy that his weapon of choice was odd for a knight, but he respected it and had enjoyed making it.

When they arrived at the forgery, he spotted it straight away.

A double-edged axe made out of netherite- one of the strongest materials that the kingdom had, forged from true hell- with diamond highlights at the wrist of the weapon and silver sheens on the end of the handle. The handle itself was wrapped in black fabric that made it easier to hold, and even a loop for him to slip it into his wrist.

It had been made beautifully, and as he was looking in awe at it, he noticed Nick's sword out the corner of his eye. His friend would adore that, he was sure of it. The blacksmith implored him to take it off the wall mount and get a feel for it, and Clay immediately knew it was perfectly weighted. The balance of it was exactly what he'd wanted, and he felt further sure that he would be able fully equipped to protect the king and prince's lives.

His purpose had never been clearer.

After laughing with the blacksmith for a short moment about his emotive expressions, he was pushed away and told to go to the hall for the rehearsal, since he was only there to pick up the weapon and grab his weapon sheath. It had attached onto his belt without fuss and then Clay was sent off.

Without Nick walking beside him, he felt a little odd. Silently reminding himself that this was how it would be from now on, he shook the feeling off and instead felt excited for his friend to get his uniform. He felt his cape sweep behind him with each step, and although he had been nervous for the time to actually come, Clay knew this was his destiny. Standing in front of the large hall doors, a tingling crept up from under his skin, begging for him to move already.

He listened to the urge and raised his hands, pushing the two doors wide open with both hands. Faces turned to meet him, some familiar and some not, but the rush of his heart swelling when his eyes locked onto the vision of Prince George at the other side of the room made his blood pound, and this time his breath was taken away by something other than a wheeze. He’d be standing there in the flesh actually knighting him in barely a few hours.

**Author's Note:**

> so hey guys! hope that was up to standard for you all! I'm working on the last part for the merfolk au (if you're interested in merman! george, go check that out!) and as soon as that's done I'll make sure it's up for you. I adore writing these guys, and I hope you enjoyed! let me know if I need to include any more tags or trigger/content warnings, and feel free to leave kudos/comments!
> 
> lots of love,  
> cypress


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